


Roses

by ana_kl



Category: Men's Hockey RPF
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-17
Updated: 2020-07-14
Packaged: 2021-03-04 00:33:15
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,531
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24764689
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ana_kl/pseuds/ana_kl
Summary: Matthew's 5 when he realizes that he loves roses.He's 26 when he realizes that he has someone who'll remind him that that's ok.
Relationships: Leon Draisaitl/Matthew Tkachuk
Comments: 39
Kudos: 202





	1. Chapter 1

When Matthew was 5, he realized that he loved roses. 

He loved flowers in general, since long summer afternoons spent playing field hockey out in the yard with his little brother and sister were punctuated by his mother tending to the fragrant lilacs that lined the sides of their house. When the sticky, hot days preceding cooling thunder storms dragged on, he loved sitting outside in the grass with a frosty glass of lemonade, letting the heavy perfume of bird cherry tree and apple blossoms surround him. The bright yellows, oranges and reds of marigolds always made him happy, and the salads in which his mom would toss purple, burgundy and white pansies always seemed to taste better because the flower petals were there. And when Taryn was 8 and would get her brothers to help her weave flower crowns out of dandelions, while Brady quickly lost interest, Matthew would be just as focused on braiding the yellow flowers intricately together as his sister. It wasn't just that he was being a good older brother, either: he genuinely enjoyed it, finding the meticulous, meditative task a welcome escape from the loud, rowdy change rooms at hockey practice where he was becoming increasingly and uncomfortably aware that there might be something wrong with him for feeling put off by the other boys' conversations about girls, wanting to talk about other boys instead. 

But his favorite flowers were roses. There weren't any in the garden, but his dad always bought a bouquet of roses for his mom on her birthday, on Valentine's day and their wedding anniversary. They came in pink, white, peach and purple, but Matthew's favorite were the deep red ones that would dominate the bouquet. When his mom realized how much he loved them, she'd always give him one of the long stem red roses from the bouquet and he'd keep it in a water glass on his bookshelf in his room. He loved how fresh the roses smelled and how soft the petals felt, like smooth, cool velvet on his skin. Most of all, he loved the private fantasy they'd inspire, of a boy he would love when he was older bringing him roses and kisses just like his dad did for his mom.

\---

When he was 15, he was hit by harsh reality, right in the middle of a hockey game. He was attentive and inquisitive by nature and was just as aware of the social dynamics in school as he was of the academics. Somewhere between second and third grade, he'd intuited that his love for flowers and his dream of having his own husband one day wasn't something he should share with the other kids. Conversations in the change room at hockey, trash talk on the ice and everything from books to TV shows to commercials that suggested that only a man and a woman could have a family reinforced this. But maybe out of naivety or the willful desire to believe differently, Matthew had always thought that maybe, things would work out for him. He'd have his happily ever after, his prince charming would find him someday because... because there had to be someone out there for him... 

Right? 

The slur hadn't been loud enough to hear off the ice, not with all the other shouts and cheers filling the arena, and it hadn't even been directed at Matthew. But he'd been within earshot and for the way it made his heart drop and his stomach twist, it might as well have been shouted right in his face. 

_"You gonna stop playing like such a pussy? Fucking fag!"_

They'd lost the game, even with Matthew's two goals in the third period, but none of it -- the loss, the goals -- seemed to matter to Matthew, because his mind had stopped being in the game from the moment he'd overheard the slur. Things were tense and dejected in the change room post-game, but Matthew felt like he was in a world of his own, even when his dad drove back home, reviewing the game play by play as always. The whole family had gone to the game and normally, win or lose, the obvious support always made Matthew's heart feel warm and full. But that day, it was just too much and it was all he could do to agree with his dad in the right places as he sat in the back of the too-full family car, wondering whether his mom, dad, sister and brother would still love him if they knew. 

When they got home, he was so quiet that his mom immediately asked him if he was ok, prompting everyone else to turn around and look at him with concern. Until that moment, he'd done what he thought was a pretty good job of keeping focused on hockey and on school. He spent less time lingering on flowers and only allowed himself to dream about boys when he laid in bed at night. But in that moment, standing at the entrance of the home in which he'd grown up, his mom's gentle hand on his shoulder and his whole family looking nothing but concerned about him, the full weight of what had happened that night, of how he was different hit him and he started to cry, letting his hockey bag slip off his hunched shoulders. 

"Matt... What's wrong?" His mom immediately hugged him and Matthew only cried harder as he wondered if she'd still want to hug him once he told her. 

"Don't cry, Matty. You played a good game and it's not about the loss; it's about what you can learn from it. There'll be other games and win or lose, there's always something to learn," his dad contributed. 

But Matthew had shaken his head against his mother's shoulder because as valiantly as his father was trying to cheer him up, it wasn't about the game. It was both about and was so much more than hockey... 

Unwillingly, he'd pulled himself out of his mother's embrace and prepared himself for the worst. He had a loving family and no reason yet to believe that they wouldn't accept him, but with his trust in his teammates having been broken, he wasn't sure what to expect. 

"I'm gay," he said so quietly and his voice so unsteady that he wasn't sure if anyone could hear him. "...I-I'm sorry..." 

The few seconds of silence that followed felt like a suspended eternity and more tears silently fell down Matthew's cheeks as he curled in on himself, his big secret finally out in the open. It wasn't how he had intended to come out to his family; at that point, he hadn't even thought about coming out at all. Maybe he should have just told Brady or Taryn first, to test the water, but there was no going back now and the terrible words that still echoed had made it suddenly so, so urgent that his family should know now. 

The shock and horror he was expecting never came however, and just as soon as he'd left, he was pulled back in his mother's arms. 

"Oh Matthew, I know. And I love you," his mother said and Matthew started sobbing, shaking in her embrace. 

"It's ok, son," he felt his dad's firm and reassuring hand on his back. "You have nothing to apologize for. We're proud of you and we love you." 

Emotionally overwhelmed was the only way that Matthew could describe how he felt as Brady and Taryn hugged him, telling him that they loved him no matter what, too. 

So even though the sport about which he was passionate more than anything else darkened a little, he'd also discovered that his family really was a safe place in which he could freely talk about flowers and hockey and boys. It meant everything to him to have his family's support, for his dad to treat him no differently but for a little extra time now telling him not to pay mind to anything anyone said in the locker room or on the ice. 

Although his dad, who knew more than anyone what hockey culture was like, still believed that Matthew was well on his way to a career in the NHL, he didn't know what it was like to be a gay man in hockey. There were just some things for which he and all of Matthew's mentors couldn't prepare him for. His mother still shared her roses with him and he painted his nails with Taryn on the weekends and Brady started stepping up whenever someone on his own team let loose a homophobic slur. But as much as these things helped, as much as his family supported him and he could finally explore the part of him that liked feeling _pretty_ sometimes, Matthew knew that the safe bubble that his family provided him was exactly that. The strong, acrid odor of the acetone that dried out his cuticles reminded him that unlike Taryn, he had to remove his nail polish before school started again for the week and that it definitely had to be off before hockey. Neither his dad nor Brady could protect him, could stand up for _boys like him_ in the change rooms or on the long bus rides from city to city.

And no matter how well he took care of them, the roses always, always dried up and died.

\----

By the time Matthew made it into the NHL, he'd developed a thick skin. He'd learned not to let the trash talk on the ice get to him and he'd learned to throw a few comments back, himself. More than anything, he'd learned that it was imperative that no one know about his sexuality.

He soon made an impression, both for his skills on ice and for his personality and of course, the franchise capitalized upon him. There were times at which he was asked to initiate fights, often with much older, bigger and more experienced players. They left him with sprains and stitches and more bruises than he could count. He still loved hockey and growing up immersed in the sport, he'd always known that fights were part of the game. He didn't really mind, but sometimes the things that were said to him or about him on and off the ice hurt. And while a hard-played, physical game fit for Matthew the hockey player, aggression and provocation wasn't really who Matthew the person was. He wondered if it was possible to constantly be two different people, but when seeing the other guys with their partners at family events reminded him of what he was missing and maybe what he could never have while he was playing professionally, he realized that it certainly was. 

If he thought about it too much, sometimes it made him sad. Some days more than others, it hurt not to have someone to hold his hand as he explored downtown Calgary, to come home to an empty apartment or to get on social media and see some guys he'd played hockey or gone to school with, sometimes younger than him, making relationship or engagement announcements. He wasn't looking for a relationship for the sake of being in a one, but he just wanted to feel loved in a way that his family, no matter how supportive, couldn't love him. He learned to hide the loneliness, however; he was young, focused on hockey and with family members regularly coming to visit and stay with him, it wasn't hard to put aside the longing. It was even nice at times to have his own place, all to himself, and it wasn't as though there was anyone he was interested in, anyways. 

Until he met Leon Draisaitl. 

\-----

Matthew didn't really know if he had a "type"; he'd only ever had one boyfriend and they were together for a very unimpressive three months when he was 17. They had kissed twice and held hands when no one was looking, and while Matthew had gone into it wanting something serious, wondering if maybe this would be the boy who would bring him roses, it soon became clear that they didn't have much in the way of a foundation for a relationship other than that they both liked other boys. All in all, he was (grossly) inexperienced when it came to relationships -- even Brady had more experience than he did. There just always seemed to be too much to lose, especially as it became clear that he really did have a future in the NHL. What if he fell for someone who turned out to be straight? What if he found someone who just didn't understand why it would be so hard for him to come out publicly or how important hockey was to him? What if he fell in love with someone who didn't understand or accept that he was a man who liked flowers and painting his nails?

He hadn't needed experience to know what it meant to have butterflies in his stomach the first time he saw Leon off the ice, as the Flames were leaving to get back on the bus. Matthew had been following his teammates out and had only seen Leon from far away and in passing. But it was with an odd, not unpleasant mix of thrill, the giddiness that came with discovering a potential new relationship and shame that Matthew kept thinking about how Leon looked, put together and elegant in the long black coat he'd seen him wearing, tight enough over his shoulders to show how broad they were. 

Over the next few weeks, he couldn't help indulging in fantasies of a (very) handsome, dark-haired boyfriend giving him flowers and kisses, holding his hand in public, waiting for him after they had a game together and maybe he wouldn't care much for Calgary, but he'd show Matthew all around his hometown in Germany... 

It was embarrassing and arresting to realize how much his projections meant to him. More than anything, it just hurt, plain and simple, when Matthew made the mistake of turning on the television following a particularly heated game against the Oilers. Maybe, if there was such a thing as fate, it was reminding him that he could never have what he'd been wanting more and more as of late, with hockey practices not being enough to fill the void of which he was becoming increasingly aware as cousins got married and friends got engaged. Not more than fifteen minutes after he watched an interview in which Zack Kassian called him a pussy, Leon Draisaitl told dozens of reporters and the thousands watching that if he and Matthew were ever on the same team, he'd get off the ice. He wasn't sure which comment was more painful -- feeling like he was in junior hockey again, reliving the moment he learned that hockey would have no place for him if he was to be himself, or hearing from the man on whom he had an intensifying crush that he most definitely had noticed him and found him repulsive.

And of course, Matthew would catch a glimpse of Leon kissing his girlfriend after they played the Oilers again in Edmonton. 

He was 21 when he learned that having goals, envisioning the result and working hard, a great strategy for hockey, wouldn't get him anywhere when it came to love. 

\-----

Matthew didn't actually have a problem with the Oilers, but he was honestly a little scared to play in the All-Star tournament when he found out that both Connor and Leon were on his team. He had no idea how they'd treat him and as unbothered as he made himself out to be when interviewed about it, he really didn't know what to do if they truly hated him. Although less so, he even worried about whether the other guys on his temporary team would like him enough to want to play with him. He had Gio and Rittich at least, but he knew that at some point, he was going to have to interact with everyone else, too. He tried not to follow media reports too much, especially those that were less about the game and more about the people, but it had been inevitable that he'd seen some of the nastier comments online, unflattering photoshops of him and older articles on his penalty track record. The worst ones were interviews with older players, some of whom he'd looked up to growing up, putting in their two cents and more or less concluding that they didn't have much respect for him. 

His dad had always told him not to take trash talk and media scrums personally and he didn't usually. If he was a little less preoccupied, he'd probably even have a laugh with Brady over some of the "Turtle Tkachuk" jokes he'd seen. But with so much going on in his mind now that he felt more targeted than ever, that he was facing training and playing with a team that might share some of those opinions and having to see his (very unavailable) crush who probably genuinely hated him every single day, it was hard to separate comments about his game and comments about who he was as a person. He didn't feel like he had anyone he could talk to, either. As close as he was to his siblings, as much as he and Brady were each other's go-to person for everything, his feelings felt too complicated to explain to another person. Sports psychologists were a no-go as well -- they helped with focus techniques and how to block out distractions, but Matthew was pretty sure that they couldn't help him confront those distractions. And even though he knew that they were subjected to some kind of confidentiality oath, he wasn't sureif he could risk someone that close to the sport knowing that he was feeling like this because he was attracted to another man...

As (bad) luck would've had it, he wound up rooming with Leon when the teams were convocated for practice a week before the tournament weekend. He and his family were so excited when it was announced that the tournament would be played in St. Louis: they could all be there to watch both him and Brady play. But as he hauled his suitcase up to his hotel room that he'd be sharing with the person he wanted least to see, he felt so thankful because for the weekend at least, he could stay in the safety of his parents' home. If only practice was in St. Louis, too. 

He froze when he opened the room door and found Leon already there, unpacking on one side of the room. 

"...Hi," Matthew said quietly, surprising even himself with how timid he sounded.

Leon stopped going through his luggage for a moment, just looking at Matthew with an unreadable expression. It wasn't a mean expression, but Matthew still wanted to shrink under the unprecedented scrutiny. 

"Hi," Leon finally said. "Had a good flight?" 

"Yeah," Matthew tried to keep whatever flow of conversation they were starting going. It was both easier and harder to keep talking with Leon turning his attention back to his suitcase. "I saw my parents on the way over, so that was nice and... yeah." 

They didn't say anything more and Matthew tried to focus on getting his half of the room set up for the next few days instead of on the heavy silence that he wasn't sure if he should try to fill. After all, Leon had asked him how his flight had gone; maybe he should make an effort to pull his weight too, no matter how uncomfortable this was. 

"Here's the training schedule," Matthew suddenly said, seeing the page he'd printed out at the top of his suitcase.

As soon as he held the page out to Leon however, he regretted it. First of all, he felt stupid because obviously, Leon had also received their training schedule. Then, to his horror, he realized that he still had on the light, white-pink nail polish that Taryn had put on for him the night before. He was always so careful about removing it before hockey, but he'd let his guard down this time. Between stopping in St. Louis for a couple days after the last game, catching an early flight that morning and trying to keep out the winter chill with gloves, taking off the polish that his sister had so carefully applied had been in the back of his mind. He'd counted on having enough time to take it off before his roommate arrived and figured that it was light enough to be barely visible on his nails. But now in the room's lighting, omnipresent given the grey, snowy skies outside, it felt as though he might as well have been wearing hot, glittery pink. 

The silence that followed was almost painful and Matthew was sure that he was blushing. Yet, he couldn't pull back his hand and couldn't even utter the excuses and feeble explanations that he was desperately trying to pull together. As much as he wished he could convince himself otherwise, he knew that Leon could see.

"Thanks," Leon said, taking the schedule before going back to unpacking. 

Matthew stood in place, shocked and not sure if he wanted to laugh or cry. Leon hadn't said anything about his nails and after he was sure that he wouldn't, Matthew hurriedly finished his own unpacking then, as discretely as he could in a two-person hotel toom, he snuck into the bathroom and removed the nail polish, trying his best to wash his hands so thoroughly afterwards that the scent of soap replaced the distinctive acetone that he knew Leon would be able to smell anyways. They didn't say much for the rest of the day, although if there was any benefit to their tense arrangement, it was that meeting his other teammates later that evening was far less awkward than the past few hours with Leon had been. Matthew found out that Rittich and Gio were roommates and he couldn't help but wonder if he and Leon had been purposely assigned the same room...

That night, Matthew just couldn't get to sleep. Leon hadn't said anything about the nail polish; he'd hardly said a word to Matthew at all. Not that the silence wasn't expected. But Matthew almost wished that Leon would say something. He was trying to guess at what Leon was thinking and even though he knew that just because he liked pretty things, it didn't mean that he also liked men... but what if Leon couldn't see beyond stereotypes and somehow had worked that out, too? What if he told someone, Connor maybe. And then what if word got around the league? What if he became a "distraction," so much so that he lost the contract he'd worked so hard for? Overtired, panicking and not exactly sure what he was doing, he quietly slipped out of the room, hoping that Leon wasn't awake and that Gio and Rittich were. He wasn't sure if this was the right thing to do, but he couldn't sleep unless he talked to someone and having never come this close to the entire NHL knowing his deepest secrets, it suddenly wasn't enough to be able to turn to his brother, as he usually did. 

A couple texts and a stealthy exit later, Matthew found himself at Gio and Rittich's door in tears, scared now too of how his teammates would react. But Gio had two kids of his own and Matthew had always got along well with Rittich, so maybe, just maybe, they would be accepting...? 

He didn't know where to start, but once he started, he couldn't stop and he told his teammates that he was gay, that sometimes he liked to paint his nails, that Leon had seen and that he just didn't know what to do. 

"Did Draisaitl give you a hard time about it?" David asked, clearly prepared to get confrontational if he had. 

"We can get you a different room if you're not comfortable," Mark added and looking at his teammates -- his _friends_ \-- who were obviously on his side, who hadn't even flinched when he told them that he was gay, Matthew couldn't stop crying but for different reasons now. 

"N-No, it's ok," Matthew sniffled. "He didn't say anything... but I don't know what that means," he admitted. 

"We've got you, Matty," Mark said, his hand on Matthew's shoulder. "This stays between us unless you want the other guys to know, and you come and tell us if anyone bothers you." 

Matthew smiled, feeling lighter, even though he was emotionally exhausted. He snuck back into his own room in the middle of the night and Leon seemed to still be sleeping, his back turned to Matthew. But the next day, as they prepared to go to practice, Matthew emerged from the bathroom to see Leon waiting for him, clearly meaning to talk to him. Matthew was nervous, his heart sinking as he noted the intensity on Leon's face, hating himself a little for still finding Leon attractive despite the conversation that he was pretty sure was going to follow. 

Except...

"...You should paint your nails," Leon finally said, looking serious and focused as though he was on the ice. "If you want to, you should. Doesn't matter what anyone thinks." 

Matthew was floored. He had no idea what to say or what to do. There wasn't much opportunity either; Leon was soon hauling his equipment bag over his shoulder and leaving the room. But practice wasn't as bad as Matthew feared and even the All-Star tournament went well. They won. He and Leon even made an assist and the "Fuck you" that Leon gave him didn't hurt the way it would have a few weeks ago. 

At only 22, Matthew felt as though he had the weight of the world on his shoulders but for the first time, he didn't feel as though he was completely alone. He had no idea how he felt about Leon -- he was still attracted to him, more than ever now if anything. But maybe it was better not to think too much about it, to try and forget. 

\------ 

Matthew was almost 24 when he had his first kiss that really mattered. 

Everyone cleaned up well when there was a charity event and with all the Western conference teams together for this one, the day before his birthday, benefitting a children's fund at that, there wouldn't be any tension between the players. Still, Matthew wasn't expecting to find himself with Leon so many times that evening, let alone by themselves at the end of the night. Since the All-Star game, they were the same on the ice as ever. But their relationship off the ice had started shifting since then. They'd started talking more when they shared a hotel room the year before, not exactly comfortable, but Matthew wasn't so sure that Leon hated him anymore. 

Then they'd started texting -- Leon (Leon!) had sent him a first message on Instagram. They weren't best friends -- Matthew wasn't even sure if Leon would want to call them friends. Still, something about the way that Leon looked at him -- had been looking at him all night -- made him blush and made him wonder if maybe, maybe...

"P-Please stop," Matthew managed, pushing Leon away half-heartedly when Leon kissed him. 

They were out of sight, but Matthew felt as though a thousand eyes were on him, as tears filled his eyes and his heart raced. He could still feel Leon's lips on his, the scratch of his beard against his cheek, only it wasn't right, this couldn't be happening. 

Leon frowned, Matthew's reaction not at all what he had been expecting.

"What's wrong?" He asked, so sure that he'd read things right, perplexed and alarmed now by Matthew's reaction. 

"Leon, you don't... You don't like me... You have a girlfriend... I-I... We play hockey..." Matthew managed.

He'd always imagined the worst case scenario in the back of his mind, someone finding out, someone dating him as an experiment, dating him because he liked pretty things and maybe it made it easier to date another man, someone using him or outing him. He just hadn't expected that it would happen so soon, like this and that it would hurt so much. It was almost like a sick fairytale: a few minutes from midnight and instead of finding his one true love, he was having his heart broken in the cruelest way. 

_Please don't._

"Matthew...I'm not making fun of you," Leon said softly, taking Matthew's hands in his as he tried to calm him down. "...We broke up last year; she's great, but it wasn't what either of us wanted. I didn't think I liked you, but I do. And no one has to know if you don't want them to, but... it doesn't really matter to me if someone does find out." 

Matthew was 24 when he had his second real kiss, with someone he never thought he could have and someone he maybe really could trust. 

\-----

Matthew is 26 when he plays his fourth All-Star weekend and he's sitting on the hotel room's queen bed, watching his boyfriend paint his nails with as much concentration as he'd had during their game earlier. Leon's had so much practice doing Matthew's nails by now that he's even better at it than Taryn. He makes sure that the color is even, takes the time to double coat if the color's not showing enough and he's even more invested than Matthew in experimenting with different designs. He makes the effort because he knows it's important to Matthew. Tonight, Leon's using a matte lavender to fill in all of Matthew's nails except his ring fingers, on which he applies a glittery, showy, deep amethyst. Leon brings Matthew's left hand to his lips and kisses right over where an engagement ring would go before he opens the glittery bottle. Matthew blushes and he can't help smiling because he knows what the gesture means. They've been dating for two years, long enough to know that this is serious and maybe not quite long enough to get married yet, but he knows that there's no one else for him than Leon. Brady had been a little wary the first time Matthew brought Leon home to meet his family because even though he knows that the media hypes things up, he doesn't take chances when it comes to his big brother's heart. It took one dinner together for Leon to find his place in Matthew's family though, about the same amount of time it took for Leon's family to take to Matthew when Leon asked him to come to Germany with him the first summer they were together. 

Getting engaged sometime soon feels right. 

Leon wants to try painting Matthew's nails an ombre blue, but they'll need more supplies than what they brought with them, so that project will have to wait for when they get back to Leon's house in Edmonton or Matthew's apartment in Calgary. Leon's teasing Matthew when he says that he'll maybe add some orange to the color gradient and paint on a "29" on one of his nails, but Matthew doesn't think he'd mind if Leon did. In their hotel room, Leon still manages to give Matthew what he's pretty sure a decent manicure would be like; he fills one of the complimentary glasses with some warm water and gets Matthew to soak his cuticles in it before he gently rubs in an apple blossom scented cream and makes Matthew feel all tingly wherever he touches. When they're apart for a long time, both having games in different cities, Matthew does his own nails and sends a photo of his work to Leon. Leon says his hands are beautiful, that _he's_ beautiful, but Matthew still likes it better when Leon paints them, when Leon's actually there to kiss him and look at him like he's the most gorgeous thing in the world. 

("You _are_ ," Leon's told him whenever Matthew points it out, still so much in awe that he's actually found someone who loves him this much.)

"I love you," Matthew can't help but say when Leon finishes, because Leon just spent an hour on his nails, because even though nail polish is the only cosmetic that Matthew's really wanted to try, he knows that he'd be safe trying other things and that Leon still sees him, _wants_ him as a man.

He says it because when Leon found him hiding around the corner of the Oilers' change room one night when they'd played the Flames and Matthew was waiting for him, he'd figured out that Matthew was genuinely scared to meet his team. So, he introduces him as his boyfriend to Connor, Darnell and Ethan first, because even though he knows that the guys won't actually have a problem with Matthew once they find out they're dating, Matthew isn't convinced and it's better that he meets some of the more immediately approachable guys to start. He lets Matthew take his time and when Matthew's finally ready, he doesn't leave his side. He tells Zack to be nice when the older man approaches and Matthew presses himself a little closer to Leon; it's half joking and half serious because Leon knows Zack pretty well off the ice, but he doesn't take any chances when it comes to Matthew, either. 

Matthew tells Leon that he loves him because he really, really does. 

"I love you too," Leon smiles, putting aside the polish bottles so that he can settle in between Matthew's legs, lean him back into the stack of pillows behind them and kiss him all over. 

Off-ice Matthew is prettier, sweeter, so different than what he'd expected, but he now loves on-ice Matthew, too. 

And Matthew loves Leon because Leon makes him love himself, hockey and flowers even more, especially the roses Leon always gives him, just because. 


	2. Quick Message

Hey everyone,

Hope you're all staying well. 

So I don't usually write much on here besides the stories themselves, but I felt compelled to discuss the NHL return to play plan here because I don't really get it.   
I understand that we all want sports to come back, that staff and athletes want to go back to work like everyone else and that it can be a morale booster for everyone to be able to watch real-time hockey again. I miss hockey, too.

What I don't get though, is why there is such a push for this to go forward in the midst of a still largely uncertain and in many places, uncontrolled pandemic situation. I get that they're going forward with a plan that's been well thought out and that's received approval from health authorities. Still. Small economic benefits aside, I'm not sure how they can justify the issues that:

\- Frequent testing for athletes and staff (non-essential) means fewer tests available to health care and other frontline workers and patients (essential);  
\- PPE used to make the playoffs possible is PPE that is unavailable to frontline, especially health care, workers;  
\- Money spent to implement the plan could've been donated to/spent on health care services, food banks, struggling small businesses, additional support for low paid NHL/stadium employees etc.;  
\- There might be a mental (and physical) health impact on players & staff who participate;  
\- Unless people continue to adhere to public health guidelines (masks, hand washing, avoiding crowds) or mostly watch from home, bars, restaurants, parties etc. where people usually go to watch & celebrate games could create transmission chains, especially in the host cities.

Also, what is with this culture of shaming players who opt out? 

I've seen nasty comments on some of the players' social media pages, telling them to "man up" and "go to work," or that their choice not to participate makes them "a coward" who "isn't a team player." This is ridiculous, disrespectful and totally at odds with reality. Even though I'm aware of some of hockey's shortcomings (promotion of toxic masculinity, homophobia etc.), I didn't expect that some people would actually behave like this, even if most people, including staff, are supportive.

Worse still is that the players who have so far opted out have families and have cited concerns for their partners' and children's health -- yet there is still backlash. What kind of pressure does this create for and what message does this send to relatively younger players, who don't have "an excuse" (kids, wives, an underlying health condition), about the right to choose what is best for their physical and mental health? Putting family first is a very valid reason, but it shouldn't make the decision not to play nobler or more understandable. If someone feels uncomfortable going back to play, then they feel uncomfortable. This does not make them a coward; this does not mean that they've transgressed against the team and the sport. They have every right to withdraw from the situation and should not have to explain themselves any further. "Fanbases" should be mature enough and respectful enough of a global health emergency to understand this. 

If it is on their minds, players & support staff -- young and old, family or not, with underlying health conditions or not, franchise-defining player or not -- should feel empowered to say "I'm concerned for my health and my community, and I don't want to participate."

**There is a larger, more important team at stake than the Oilers, Stars, Leafs, Flames, Predators etc., that now more than ever requires every one of us to be teamplayers in our personal hygiene, behavior and our compassion for others.**

**That team is Humanity.**

Anyways. Those who choose to participate also have the right to do so and if they're going ahead with this, then they should be taking the risks seriously and should be using appropriate test volumes and PPE to make sure that it is as safe as possible. No judgment towards anyone who chooses to participate; everyone has a different level of risk tolerance. If you choose to go out in public to watch the games once they begin, please be responsible and encourage others to do the same. I know everyone's heard it before, but it is worth repeating because the pandemic is not over: **Wash your hands often. Wear a mask. Practice physical distancing. Stay at home as much as you can. If you must have a gathering, keep it small and distanced; consider moving it outdoors. Be considerate to frontline workers and do your part to help make their workplace safe. Stand up for those who are being bullied for taking a pandemic seriously.**

**Don't stop doing these things, no matter how your country is doing.**

I'm still learning a lot about hockey and hockey culture; I can positively appreciate most of what I've seen and I realize that the Stanley Cup is a big deal for many. 

Be that as it may, some things are more important than a hockey game. 

Stay safe,

x Ana


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